Absolutely Nothing
by Musetta di La Boheme
Summary: He tried another poem. And he called it "Absolutely Nothing" because that's what it really was all about. And he gave himself an A. And a slash on each wrist. And hung it on the bathroom door. Because this time he didn't think he could reach the kitchen.


**I don't own Ouran High School Host Club, nor do I own the poem from _The Perks of Being a Wallflower._**

_Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines_

_He wrote a poem_

_And he called it "Chops"_

_Because that was the name of his dog_

_And that's what it was all about_

Kyouya Ootori wasn't always the cold-hearted Shadow King. No, in fact, when he was younger, he was quite the sweetheart. He always did what he was told. He always did well. He never stepped out of line, not even once. And he was happy. He was content with his family, his two older brothers, his older sister. He never resented them. Not even once. He didn't have a care in the world.

_His teacher gave him an A_

_And a gold star_

_And his mother hung it on the kitchen door_

_And read it to his aunts_

He remembered when he received his first real assignment from school. He was to write a poem. He was so happy when he saw the gold star on his paper. He remembered showing it to his mother, knowing that his father would be too busy to notice. "Kaa-san!" he said happily as he held up the paper. "Look! I did really well!" He remembered his mother's smile as she read over the poem. He remembered her reading it to all of the family members that came to visit. He remembered their wide smiles, their praise.

_That was the year Father Tracy_

_Took all the kids to the zoo_

_And he let them sing on the bus_

_And his little sister was born_

_With tiny nails and no hair_

Kyouya had always been very close with his older sister, Fuyumi. The two would always play together, probably because they were closest in age. His brothers had never cared much for Kyouya. But his sister was different. His sister would always hug him and make sure he had had a good day at school and that no one was picking on him. Whenever he was with Fuyumi, he was happy.

_And his mother and father kissed a lot_

_And the girl around the corner sent him _

_A Valentine signed with a row of X's_

_And he had to ask his father what the X's meant_

_And his father always tucked him in bed at night_

_And was always there to do it_

Kyouya remembered the time when his father had been kind and gentle towards him. He remembered being little and tucked into bed. "Goodnight, Kyouya," his father would say softly. He would kiss Kyouya on the forehead and turn out the lights.

"Goodnight, otou-san," Kyouya would say to his father before the older man would leave the room, closing the door behind him. He was happy.

_Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines_

_He wrote a poem_

_He called it "Autumn"_

_Because that was the name of the season_

_And that's what it was all about_

Years had passed, and Kyouya had started to attend middle school. He was slowly becoming the Shadow King he would be known to be in the future. He was beginning to feel the pressure of being the third son. He knew he had to be the best. There wasn't an option anymore. If he wasn't the best, he was a failure. But he was still happy.

_And his teacher gave him an A_

_And asked him to write more clearly_

_And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door_

_Because of the new paint_

He remembered the first poem he'd had to write in middle school. It was during his second year. He remembered getting the paper back. He remembered feeling disappointed. He got an A, which was good, but the note was bad. He'd never received any negative critique regarding his work before. He remembered showing it to his mother, because Kyouya still thought it was a good poem. And he remembered his mother brushing him off.

_And the kids told him_

_That Father Tracy smoked cigars_

_And left butts on the pews_

_And sometimes they would burn holes_

_That was the year his sister got glasses_

_With thick lenses and black frames_

Kyouya remembered when he started distancing himself from his sister who was once his best friend. He couldn't afford to have friends. Friends were a distraction. Any distraction meant that he wasn't putting all of his effort into being the best. He remembered the hurt look on Fuyumi's face every time she saw him, for she knew he would completely ignore her, unless he absolutely could not avoid it.

_And the girl around the corner laughed_

_When he asked her to go see Santa Claus_

_And the kids told him why_

_His mother and father kissed a lot_

_And his father never tucked him in bed at night_

_And his father got mad_

_When he cried for him to do it_

He remembered seeing his father's disappointed looks every time Kyouya was less than perfect. He remembered the anger when he tried to apologize, when he tried to explain. "I'm doing my best!" he recalled shouting at the man. "I can't do any more!" And he couldn't. He was reaching his limit.

_Once on a paper torn from his notebook_

_He wrote a poem_

_And he called it "Innocence: A Question"_

_Because that was the question about his girl_

_And that's what it was all about_

Kyouya remembered his first real girlfriend, Haruhi Fujioka, and though he'd never admit it, he was using her. He was using her because he knew she would be successful. He was using her because he knew his father wouldn't approve. His father would never allow him to be romantically involved with a so-called commoner. And he didn't care. He would do anything to go against them. He was not happy.

_And his professor gave him an A_

_And a strange steady look_

_And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door_

_Because he never showed her_

He remembered writing one of his final poems. It was his third year of high school, and he was taking a class at a nearby university. He wrote it on Haruhi. And how he was using her for his own selfish gain. He knew he could never show it to anyone else. It would ruin him. And he didn't want to see the disappointed looks any longer.

_That was the year Father Tracy died_

_And he forgot how the end_

_Of the Apostles' Creed went_

_And he caught his sister_

_Making out on the back porch_

But one of his most vivid memories was finding his sister outside of the main Ootori house. She was with someone who was most certainly not her husband. But he never said anything. He didn't want her to get into trouble. Though he'd been slowly isolating himself from her, he wouldn't do that to her. He couldn't.

_And his mother and father never kissed_

_Or even talked_

_And the girl around the corner_

_Wore too much make up_

_That made him cough when he kissed her_

_But he kissed her anyway_

_Because it was the thing to do_

_And at 3 AM he tucked himself into bed_

_His father snoring soundly_

He remembered his parents' divorce. He wasn't stupid. He knew it would happen eventually. They had lived apart since he started his second year of middle school. And he'd been forced to live with his father, though he didn't want to. He wanted to live with his mother, but Yoshio would never allow it. He had to make sure his son was kept under control. Kyouya was horribly unhappy.

_That's why on the back of a brown paper bag_

_He tried another poem_

_And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"_

_Because that's what it really was all about_

Kyouya remembered the total emptiness that had been consuming him for the past few years. Even his best friend, Tamaki, was unable to keep him really happy. The scars ran much too deep. And so in his room one night, he tried to write again. But no words would come.

_And he gave himself an A_

_And a slash on each damned wrist_

He remembered wanting it to all end. And so he walked into the bathroom, took a razor blade from the medicine cabinet, and slashed each wrist as deeply as he could. He wanted it all to end. He didn't think he could handle it anymore.

_And he hung it on the bathroom door_

_Because this time he didn't think_

_He could reach the kitchen_

And just before the world became black, he wrote the title of the poem onto the bag in his own blood. And he placed it on the door, just above where he lay. Then, he felt no more.


End file.
